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“And that\'s where we beetle fight!” Xian whispered conspiratorially, pointing at a side alley that had a log post turned sideways at the end of it.

Bowu nodded seriously at the alleyway.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell Auntie.” he whispered, and Xian’s grin got wider as they set out into the town once more, Xian doing good on his promise to show him around town. Everybody else was at the Zhuge Compound with Mister Zhuge and Auntie Meihua.

Bowu’s face flushed and he scratched his cheek.

The woman had heard that her father was teaching him how to blacksmith… and had grabbed Bowu and showered him with kisses.

And then she\'d told his sister to her face that she was stealing him and Bowu was her little brother now.

Xianghua hadn’t known whether to be angry or impressed at the audacity of the mortal woman, but had taken the declaration seriously and ended up in an hour-long argument with the woman about who was the superior sister in between them.

Well, it had been an hour before Bowu decided to leave. They had gotten the tea out and were still arguing when he left with Xian. Tigu, Ri Zu, and Wa Shi had just sat down to watch.

And it wasn\'t like he minded hanging out with Xian. The fact that Auntie Meiling trusted him to make sure they stayed out of trouble was something he had never before experienced.

He had always been the one that had to be looked after or pushed to the side. Or worse, pitied like he was incapable of completing any basic task.

But now he was the reliable big brother.

It was a nice feeling.

They wandered around town, Xian pulling him along at a pace that would have sent Bowu tumbling to the ground not that long ago; but now he kept up with indulgent ease.

Until, that was, a man stepped out into their path as they ducked down a side street to avoid the stalls being set up.

Xian slammed into his legs, and there was a crack and a splatter as the man dropped his wine bottle.

“Haaaa? Watch where yer goin, brat!” The drunk man snarled.

Bowu narrowed his eyes at the drunk and belligerent man. He had stepped into Xian’s path.

“Ah. I’m sorry, sir.” Xian said, scratching at the back of his head. But the man just glared, his eyes hazy.

“Kids like yeh need a few smacks to straighten em out,” the belligerent man growled, and Bowu tensed. He may not have been a cultivator… but he had still been the Young Master of the Misty Lake Sect. He had been learning how to fight since he had learned how to walk.

One of the other drunk men made a sound of protest seeing his companion draw an arm back with an open hand. Little Xian looked shocked for a moment, before his own eyes narrowed, his body tensing for a dodge.

“Cease your wicked acts,” a strong voice commanded. The offending fist was roughly grasped by somebody else.

The drunk wirled, coming face to face with two unnerving eyes and a beak.

Bowu at first thought some kind of Spirit Beast had wandered into town, but it turned out the demonic head was simply a chicken mask. The person was wearing a wolf-fur vest and had a spear strapped across his back. The appearance rubbed at a memory. The attire was familiar for some reason. Beside him was a shaggy white puppy that was halfway to dog. The dog’s teeth were bared and a low growl issuing forth from his throat.

The drunk paled and tried to pull his arm out, to no avail. The masked man didn’t budge and Bowu realised this outlandishly dressed man—no teen, the proportions were too off for him to be a man— was a cultivator.

A single push slammed the drunk into a wall hard enough to wind him, the bastard gagging while the cultivator turned to face the drunk’s frozen friends. One of them stared incredulously at the bottle of wine in his hand, before pouring it on the ground with the determination to sober up.

“Begone,” the boy commanded.

The drunk scrambled to his feet and disappeared along with his companions.

The cultivator turned to them and inclined his head slightly. “Are you both well?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly by the mask.

Bowu glanced at Xian, who had a considering look on his face.

“We’re fine! But.. uh… are you the Torrent Rider?” Xian asked.

The cultivator’s chest puffed up with pride, and Bowu realised who this was. He had heard of the person in front of him before from Jin.

“Indeed, I am. I see my name has spread all the way to Verdant Hill!”

"Yeah! Big Sis told me about you. You’re Bi De’s student, aren’tcha?” Xian asked.

The boy wearing the chicken mask startled. Reaching up and pulling the mask to the side, he revealed a young and boyish face, shock etched all over it.

“You know Master?!” he demanded, shocked.

“Yeah! You want to meet him later? I’m showing Big Bro around town!”

“Ah… yes please,” the young man declared, bowing. “This one is Zhang Fei! It\'s a pleasure to meet both of you!”

The sudden switch from brash cultivator to polite young man got a snort out of Bowu.

“So… where are you from?” Bowu asked Fei. He remembered the story about torrent riding from Jin. It had sounded fun… and now, with his leg healed, he could actually try it.

And thus, did they all venture into the town.

Fei turned out to be a pretty funny kid. He was a cultivator, yeah, but he was like Bro Gou Ren and his eyes started to sparkle when Xian started explaining the “awesome things” Bowu could make.

It was the start to a beautiful friendship. They met up with Bi De and the rest of the people at the Zhuge Compound and got to watch Fei show off his spear techniques. One thing led to another and Bowu ended up sparring with him for a bit.

Bowu managed to get him with a feint… and instead of being upset that a mortal had managed to beat him, Fei had started earnestly asking Bowu for pointers.

It was weird, but it was nice. So they talked for a while, until the conversation drifted back to torrent-riding. Unfortunately, it was the middle of winter, so Bowu wouldn’t be able to try it.

That was until Xian came up with an idea, a grin scrawling across his face.

Several hours later, all three of them and a fish were lined up in front of Jin. The man had his arms crossed over his chest and his lips twitched as he struggled not to laugh.

The guard that was behind them was just as amused. The owner of the bathhouse? Not so much.

There was water everywhere.

Zang Wei, known as “Loud Boy” to his friends, was deep in meditation. In his mind, he visualized a broken golden stove. Its guts constantly spilled out blue light, but with each piece he carefully slotted in the escaping flow lessened.

It was hard work, but it was going to be worth it. He could repair his cultivation. He would repair his cultivation.

He set one more piece of shattered stove, barely as big as a fingernail, into its place before letting out a breath and opening his eyes to a stone room.

He was getting close now. So close. He glanced around at the empty bottles, the Shrouded Mountain Sect’s reparations going to good use.

Any day now…

But his stomach rumbled and he stood. He had been in the room for several hours today already, in this spot prime for cultivation. This stone room had a surprising amount of Qi in it.

He was just about to start for the door when it opened and a head peeked in. The woman on the other side had ragged but still lovingly repaired clothes. Her eyes widened on seeing Wei.

“Hey. You’re up,” Big Sis Minmin’s rough, deep voice exclaimed, a small smile forming on her face. She had incredibly curly hair and a large scar on her neck that went halfway up her face. She also had an absolutely terrifying glare.

She was also the kindest and sweetest member of Rag’s gang. She had a tray of food in her hands and was clearly just about to set it down for Wei.

“Yeah. I made good progress today. Thanks for bringing food for me, Big Sis.” It still irked Wei a bit that her voice was deeper than his, but he was still growing! It would deepen soon enough…

He hoped.

“I was just going to come out for today anyway.”

Minmin nodded. “Everybody else is still eating… and the Boss is back. C’mon, there\'s room at the table.”

Wei perked up at the mention of Rags, following the older woman back out and down the stone hallway of the Farrow Gang’s honest-to-Heaven fortress.

He had been absolutely gobsmacked when he had come out of the tunnel hidden in the side of a mountain. Rags had spoken so irreverently of their “hideout” that he had expected a shack in a gloomy forest.

It looked almost like the design of the Dueling Peaks… but it had none of the interesting stuff in it. No moving doors or pulleys, and it had been long abandoned when Rags had first found it.

None of the interesting stuff save for a series of pictograms carved into a wall that was the basis for Rags\'s fighting style.

Still, it was a nice place. Lots of rooms, and it was surprisingly clean. Though… that may have been due to Rags’s other gang members.

Big Sis Minmin and Loud Boy pressed along a wall as a bunch of kids shot past them and then stepped out into the main hall, where people were talking and laughing.

Rags’s gang was rather… different than Loud Boy had been expecting at first. It turned out all the people with him at the Dueling Peaks were the oldest and most fit.

People like Big Sis Minmin, Little Shou, Bro Kuang, and the Iron Head Brothers.

The rest of the Farrow Gang? Kids, grannies, and grandpas.

The poor and the broken from Grass Sea City, led to a place of their own by a charismatic idiot.

Wei couldn’t hate Rags for it. Honestly, his friend was an idiot who couldn’t read a single character before Wei had taught him how… But he was a good guy to his “gang”.

And said friend was currently drinking his shitty, cheap booze as he lazed about at the head table, watching as other people put up red decorations. Rags raised a hand in greeting… and Wei chucked him a piece of wood with several characters on it. Rags caught the missile, fumbling both the wood and his drink, not expecting it.

“Test time!” Wei stated cheerfully as he sat down beside his sworn brother. Minmin and the Ironhead Brothers started laughing as Rags groaned.

“You little shit! Seriously?!” he exclaimed. “It\'s the New Year, and I just got back from guarding another caravan!”

Wei ignored him and started into the food Minmin had got him, the woman letting out a throaty laugh that sounded really nice.

“Come on, what does it say?” Loud Boy demanded as Rags grumbled. Rags glared at the offending piece of wood, and then his face broke out into a massive smile.

“Ha, you little bastard. You thought you could get me with this, but!” Rags pulled out his own piece of wood.

On it were the same characters Wei had written. The calligraphy was terrible— but it said, proud as day, the same words Loud Boy had given Rags.

New Year’s Blessings upon my Brother.

Wei flushed at the message. Rags had gone out of his way to learn how to write his gift to him.

“Raggedy bastard,” Wei muttered, impressed.

“Loud-mouthed brat,” Rags returned.

Both of them stared at each other… and then burst out laughing.

“Good to see you again.” Wei said, reaching forward to clasp forearms with Rags.

“Same. It\'s not quite the same without my ears ringing from your voice!”

Wei shook his head. “How was guarding the caravan?”

“Ha! We ran into some bandits! But they ran as soon as they saw us. The legend of the Great Rags!”

Wei shook his head as Rags launched into another tale that was surely exaggerated.

But it still resonated with Wei. It lit a fire in his gut.

Wei had a bit more work to do on his core… and then he would be able to stand alongside his sworn brother once more.

“Aslo, we got another thing,” Rags said, producing a letter. “Our sister sent us this!”

“Tigu sent us a letter?”

“Aye! Through the company! We have a little package as well! She sent us food and some of her Master’s booze!”

“New Year’s Blessings, eh?” Wei asked.

Dong Chou, known as Rags, grinned and opened the letter, going to hand it off to Wei, but Loud Boy shook his head.

“Come on. At least try first.”

Rags paused and then sighed, giving Wei a half-hearted glare. He put the letter in front of him and with a halting voice, he began.

‘I, Rou Tigu, greet you, my sworn brothers! It has been a long time! All is well…

“What did the Azure Jade Trade Company want, father?” Tie Delun asked as he hammered in another rivet into the plate. The forge was hot enough to melt steel, yet he worked close to the flame with his shirt off so that he could better get a grasp of the temperature.

“One of their outriders had a message for you, my son,” his father replied. His bulk filled the doorway, though it had been built large enough that he wouldn’t have to duck to enter.

“A message for me? From whom?” Tie Delun asked.

His father smiled beatifically. “He said it was from somebody named Rou Tigu…”

Tie Delun of the Hermetic Iron Sect was on his feet and had his letter out of his father’s hand faster than he had ever moved before.